


on the edge of what was and what will be

by lipsstainedbloodred



Category: Green Creek Series - T.J. Klune, Wolfsong - Fandom
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Multi, Original Characters - Freeform, Post canon, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-10
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2019-03-02 22:43:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13327959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lipsstainedbloodred/pseuds/lipsstainedbloodred
Summary: He's been running for days, weeks, his body tired and sore and wounded. He just wants to sleep. He just wants to be safe. Just for a minute, a moment, a second. He doesn't think he's ever been safe before. He doesn't know if he can be. He wants to try, he wants to try, he wants to-





	1. the beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Hey thanks for all my asshole friends getting me into Wolfsong and making me cry like a huge baby so here have a fic about a wolf who came from nothing and no one and finds himself a family. I don't know how often I'll be able to update this but I sure would like to try.

He didn’t know how long he’d been running for, only that it had been so long his joints ached with it, his paws burned from the crack of sticks and cold snow beneath them; he thought that if he stopped running it might kill him. He thought that if he didn’t stop soon he might die from that too. He could feel the thrum of heavy wards to his right. They didn’t feel dangerous but he knew they were strong, strong enough to have kept enemy Omegas out, strong enough to have kept Richard Collins out. The longer he ran alongside them the more he ached to just cross them, even if that meant entering Bennett territory.

He thought, _tired, so tired_

He forced himself to stop running, stopping so quickly and severely he knocked himself off his own feet and into a large rock. Blood was left smeared across the face of it from the wound still oozing on his left flank. He picked himself up and faced the wards.

_please_

He took a step forward, could feel the hum of the wards down to his bones. A whine fell unbiddenly from his mouth and into the cold winter air.

_please im so tired_

The magic vibrated through the trees, the very earth. It was so strong and his ears flattened against his head. He shifted restlessly, his body aching and sore. He wanted to lay down. He wasn’t safe. He didn’t want to step across the wards. He wanted to be safe.

He thought, _i don’t want to harm anyone_

He thought, _i want to rest just for a second_

He thought, _please im so tired im scared please_

He thought, _please im hurt im scared im hurthurthurt_

And then he closed his eyes and pressed forward, the magic humming over his body like static electricity, like static from clothes just out of the dryer, and then he passed through the wards. Relief dripped across him, warm like honey and he huffed out a breath. He took two steps inside the wards, lay down beneath a tree, and closed his eyes to sleep.

 

Some miles away Joe Bennett sat up in bed, wiping the sleep from his eyes. “Did you feel that?” He asked his mate.

Oxnard Matheson was also waking up, having felt the thrum under his skin of the wards being touched by something. “Yeah,” Ox said, “It felt harmless.”

“Yeah,” Joe said, but there was an undercurrent of something there. Not fear, not really, but something like suspicion and with the death of Richard Collins still feeling fresh on their minds they weren’t likely to ignore a breach in the wards even if it didn’t feel malicious.

“You want to go check it out?” Ox asked.

“I’ll race you there,” Joe said.

They didn’t race. They ran together in perfect harmony, one white wolf and one black. They ran though the woods under the dark of the new moon, stars sparkling overhead like paint flecks from one of Elizabeth’s new paintings.

 _blood_ , Joe thought.

 _somethings hurt_ , Ox thought.

At home their pack was waking up, Ox could feel it in the back of his head like radio static. _Threat?_ their pack asked, _Wrong? Threat?_

They hadn’t forgotten waking up to find Ox gone. They hadn’t forgotten feeling his pain and his death and their threads yanking all at each other.

 _no threat_ , the Alphas soothed together, _standby_

It wasn’t hard to find the spot where the wards had been breached, and they didn’t have to look far to spot the intruder. He was a caramel brown wolf with white speckled around his snout and chest. His two hind legs were black up to the knee, like a pair of socks. He breathed like everything hurt, whines slipping out of him even as he slept. There was blood on his flank, an oozing wound that looked like it should have healed ages ago but hadn’t. There were more along his back and a chain around his throat with metal barbs that dug in with every breath.

It was silver, Ox realized with a wave of revulsion, the chain had been dipped in silver.

The wolf’s paws were red and irritated, like he’d been trying the claw the chain off and failed. Joe must have noticed it too because he made a soft, sympathetic sound just a moment later, his eyes trained on the wolf’s neck.

The wolf’s eyes snapped open at the noise and he scrambled to get his feet underneath him, heart beating jack rabbit fast under his skin.

Ox said, _stay_

The wolf froze, eyes darting and anxious. He _whined_ , low in his throat and trembling in every limb. He was so hurt. All Joe could do was stare.

Ox said, _safe_

The wolf looked at him and then at Joe. His heartbeat never slowed, even when Ox lay down and kept distance between them. Joe took a step closer and the wolf bared his neck, huffing out an anxious noise, his trembling increasing. Joe stopped and sniffed, then lay down as well, his giant head resting against his paws.

Joe said, _sleep_

The wolf shifted its weight, one paw to the other, its eyes darting briefly to the wards like it was contemplating running, and then he lay back down beneath the tree. He kept whimpering little hurt noises that had Joe’s ears pricking up in interest before he finally closed his eyes.

 _safe_ , Ox told their pack, _sleep now_

He could feel their acknowledgement rumble through him and was satisfied with it. He kept his eyes on this new wolf, injured and shaking but alive, and wondered where it came from. It was something he wouldn’t have to wonder for long.

 

Gordo showed up an hour after dawn broke, the sun breaking through the horizon in dull pinks and oranges, trying to warm the frigid mountain air. Gordo whistled low and long, coming to a stop just a few feet behind Ox. “What is it about you that you keep attracting orphans?” He asked.

Ox huffed out a breath and stood, his large body knocking into Gordo and tripping him a little. Gordo put a hand in Ox’s fur to steady himself and shot the wolf a deadly look. Gordo looked carefully away while Ox shifted back, dropping a pair of sweatpants on the ground for him to change into.

“Thanks,” Ox said, pulling them up his legs and not bothering to tie the drawstring at the waist. Ox was pretty sure they were a pair of Joe’s pants, but he didn’t care to remember.

The wolf had been out cold for at least two hours now, still huffing out pained breaths that had Joe fixated on him but his heartbeat was now slow and steady, finally calm.

“How come he isn’t healing?” Ox asked, “It looks like he was injured a long time ago.”

“Hard to say,” Gordo said, “It could be the silver, that chain around his neck and the barbs.”

Ox said nothing, eyes fixated on the wolf. He looked small, even when Ox was in his human form, a starved and gangly little thing. Ox wondered how old he was.

There was a creak of bones as Joe shifted back and Gordo threw a pair of pants at him. “Do you think he’ll let us help him?” Joe asked.

“Hard to say,” Gordo said, “but he didn’t run.”

“Do you think it’s a trap?” Ox asked. He didn’t have to specify by who. Richard Collins might be dead, but Robert Livingston was still out there somewhere.

“He couldn’t have come through the wards if he meant us harm,” Gordo said carefully, “I’ve even strengthened them recently.”

“He’s probably just hurt,” Joe said, “I don’t think he has a pack.”

Joe was just as cautious as Ox, but his heart bled kindness.

“Maybe,” Ox said.

A small noise drew their attention back to the wolf at the base of the tree. It was waking up, heart thundering against its ribcage so loud it made Ox’s head hurt. The wolf’s eyes snapped open, alert all at once, eyes drawn immediately to the three of them. He got his legs underneath himself, pushing himself upright and swaying into the tree but managing to stay up.

Joe’s hand twitched and the wolf watched him wearily, lips drawing back from his teeth in mock threat. Joe didn’t move closer, just left his hand hanging in the air. “I want to take your chain off,” Joe said.

“It’s silver Joe,” Gordo reminded him, “You can’t touch it.”

Joe flashed a look at Gordo, eyes red and he growled. Gordo bared his neck unthinkingly, deferring to the Alpha. Gordo’s lips pressed together in a thin white line, his jaw clenched.

Joe turned back to the wolf. His ears were pressed flat against his skull, his shoulders hunched forward and head down. It rubbed Ox the wrong way, seeing how quickly the wolf tried to hide himself in plain sight. He remembered the way Clint had sneered “fucking retard” at him in school until Carter had shoved him head first into the lockers. He remembered making himself smaller, not speaking because words were awful and always came out wrong and it was easier to be quiet. He remembered turning off his ears, pretending not to hear the awful things his classmates said or the way his teachers whispered behind his back. He remembered trying to blend into the background, like part of the scenery, even though he’d always been too big to forget.

“I want to help,” Joe said, directly to the wolf. Joe took a step forward and the wolf held itself frozen, trembling and heart beating fast, but it didn’t run. Joe stopped directly in front of the wolf, close enough to touch. “Let me help,” Joe said, holding the wolf’s eyes.

The wolf closed its eyes.

Joe reached forward and unhooked the clasp at the back of the chain, hissing at the burn of silver on his fingers. The heavy chain fell to the ground with a soft _thump_ and Ox realized he’d been holding his breath. Joe took a step back and said, “There you go.”

The wolf whined, licking Joe’s fingers and the redness that had come from touching the silver. The wolf took a step back and shifted until he was sitting at Joe’s feet, a young naked man maybe a year older than Joe covered head to toe with bruises and cuts.

“Thank you,” The man said, voice rough and raspy, and then he promptly passed out.


	2. sunday dinner

Ox had been the one to carry the man back to the main house. It reminded him of a time when he and Joe had been a lot younger and Joe had been a lot smaller. This man hardly weighed more than Joe had weighed back then, obviously malnourished and badly beaten. He smelled like pain and fear and rain.

Elizabeth was the first one out of the house and down the steps, nostrils flaring and eyes wide with concern. She was a mother, first and foremost, even to those she hadn’t give birth to herself. Her pack were her children, but that motherly urge extended even faintly toward strangers and others that lived in Green Creek. Joe said his mother had too much love in her body not to give it away. Ox remembered dancing in the kitchen with her and agreed. “A stray?” She asked.

“Yes,” Ox said.

“And you brought him here?”

“Yes,” Ox said again.

“He’s injured,” Joe said.

“Is he running from something?” Elizabeth asked.

“Undoubtedly,” Gordo said from behind Joe, “but they wanted to bring him back here.”

“We couldn’t just leave him out there,” Joe said.

“I know, Joe,” Elizabeth said soothingly, reaching out to cup his cheek in her hand.

“He can stay in the living room for now,” Ox said, “We’ll keep an eye on him.”

Elizabeth turned her smile onto Ox, “Okay,” She said.

Ox carried the man inside, setting him down easy on the couch. Joe placed a hand on Ox’s shoulder and they both had to breathe through the feeling like sunbursts and candy that still happened when they touched. “He reminds me…” Joe trailed off, his eyebrows drawing together like it hurt, “He reminds me of _me_. After…When my family got me back.”

Ox’s hand clenched reflexively into a fist, eyes flashing red as he made himself breathe through the violet anger that dripped down from his head to his heart like melting candle wax. Joe squeezed his shoulder and the moment passed, Ox breathing out hard and unclenching his fist.

“This is important to you,” Ox said.

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

Joe pressed his forehead into the back of Ox’s shoulder, nuzzling. “Okay,” Joe said, and it felt green.

 

The change in heart beat and sudden intake of breath was what let Ox know the young man had awoken. They had covered him with a blanket and let him sleep, Joe poking his head into the room more often than necessary but still hanging around the fringes to keep him from waking too soon. Their pack was outside in the yard, setting the table for Sunday dinner, though Ox felt their wonder and curiosity at the back of his mind like constantly shifting shades of yellow.

Joe was the first into the living room after the man had woken, but Ox was quick to follow.

The man’s hands were curled into the blanket at his lap- shaking, always shaking- and he was breathing, too quick, his eyes darting and panicked.

“Hey,” Joe said, soft and pliant, “Hey, you’re okay. I hope you don’t mind we brought you home. We didn’t want to leave you alone while you were hurt.”

The man didn’t say anything for a long time. He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times like he wanted to say something but couldn’t get the words out. He closed his hands into fists and looked at Joe, not in the eye but it was close enough, “ _Why?_ ”

Ox said, “Because you were hurt.”

Joe said, “Because we wanted to help.”

The man’s face screwed up into something hopelessly confused and hopeless. “Why?” He asked again, like it hurt. Like kindness was a foreign language he didn’t understand.

Joe looked at Ox, a little frustrated and more exasperated. Ox thought about it for a moment, turning the word over and over in his head like a coin. He finally settled on, “It’s just how we are.”

The man said, “Oh.” He looked down at his hands and didn’t say anything else.

“What’s your name?” Joe asked, sitting down on the floor with his hands in his lap. He looked perfectly at ease, surrounded by the smell of pack and comfort of home. “I’m Joe Bennett, and that’s my mate Ox Matheson.”

“You’re both Alphas,” The man said.

“Yes,” Joe said.

“How does that work?”

“It’s just how we are.”

The man huffed something that sounded like an aborted laugh, his lips pulling up into a surprised kind of smile before falling flat again. “I’m Caleb,” He said, “Caleb Conners.”

“Hello, Caleb,” Joe said.

Caleb’s voice cracked a little as he said, “Hi.”

“Do you want to talk about how you got hurt?” Joe asked, “You don’t have to, but we’d like to know. We’d like to help if we can.”

“Not right now,” Caleb said, voice sounding close to breaking.

“That’s alright,” Ox said and Caleb’s head snapped up. He had gray eyes Ox noticed, like a storm at it’s tempest. “Would you like to come to Sunday dinner? It’s a tradition.”

Caleb bit his bottom lip, his eyes dropping back down to his hands again. They were trembling so he clenched them into fists. “I think I’d like that,” Caleb said and a slow pleased smile curved over Joe’s lips.

 

Caleb wouldn’t let Ox or Joe look at the wound on his leg or the ones on his back, but after some convincing they managed to get him to agree to let Elizabeth look at it. She must have seen the least threatening of them all, though Ox had seen her in battle and knew she was just as fierce as the rest of them. More so, sometimes. Caleb didn’t know that though and Ox didn’t feel the need to tell him.

Elizabeth sent Joe and Ox into the kitchen to finish dinner so she could tend to Caleb. She must have sensed Joe’s hesitation in the doorway because she turned and waved a hand at him in a shooing motion, “Joseph go take the salad out and Ox can finish the potatoes. This won’t take very long.”

Joe sent his mother a look before sighing and doing as he was told. Ox caught the bewildered look on Caleb’s face before turning his back on the two and pulling the roasted potatoes from the oven. He could hear Elizabeth humming something under her breath, it sounded slow and jazzy but he wasn’t sure if he knew the song. He heard her pull out a first aid kit from the bathroom before heading into the living room with Caleb.

She said, _“Hi, I’m Elizabeth Bennett. Joe told me there was a cut on your leg that wasn’t healing right, do you mind if I see it?”_

Caleb said, _“Okay.”_

He could hear more sound, Elizabeth opening the little kit and Caleb shifting the blanket and Caleb hissing softly when Elizabeth must have touched. _“What did this?”_ She asked.

Caleb’s voice was small when he said, _“Silver knife.”_

Elizabeth said, _“I’m sorry.”_

Ox heard the soft sound Caleb made, like he wanted to cry but was trying not to, and tried to focus on finishing the potatoes with oil and rosemary. Elizabeth grew little sprigs of it on the window sill, he almost dropped the pot of herbs when he heard Caleb say wetly, _“They killed my pack, they tried to kill me too.”_

Ox breathed through the little rush of anger at that, moving the potatoes to a bowl to carry outside. He let the door shut behind him and felt Joe move over to his side at once. Joe took the potatoes from him and said, “Are they okay?”

“They’re fine,” Ox said, “Should be out soon.”

Ox let his pack surround him, Carter and Kelly flicking pieces of lettuce at each other. Gordo and Rico arguing playfully about a customer that had come in that morning. Robbie picking a piece of lettuce out of Kelly’s hair and then flushing at the smile Kelly sent him. Jessica and Chris were on the lawn, competing to catch the most fireflies as dusk settled around them, warm and secure. They were at peace here, safe in the security of _packhomepackfamilylove_.

Ox and Joe looked up when the back door opened again, Elizabeth carrying out a gorgeous roast with Caleb on her heels carrying rolls. He was wearing a mix of Kelly’s old shirt and some of Joe’s old pants. He was barefoot though he was Elizabeth had tried her damndest to get him into a pair of shoes. Elizabeth sat Caleb at the table, between herself and Jessica. Caleb looked like he’d rather be anywhere but here at this table with them, but Joe smiled encouragingly at him from the head of the table and Caleb settled into his chair, avoiding eye contact with everyone.

Ox noticed Elizabeth was the one to fill Caleb’s plate and she spoke to him so softly he didn’t try to make out her words though he knew they had to be something warm and encouraging.  He barely touched his dinner, pushing food around the plate like he was avoiding it.

 _“You’re allowed,”_ Ox heard Elizabeth whisper, _“You’re a guest, you’re welcome here.”_

Caleb attempted a few more bites and then put his fork down, hands and mouth trembling. _“I’m sorry,”_ He mumbled, mostly toward her.

 _“That’s okay,”_ Elizabeth said, _“A little bit at a time.”_

Ox wondered if it had been like this when they’d brought Joe home, ten years old and broken. If Joe had been scared to eat, scared to move, scared to do anything and everything that had been placed in front of him. If he had, it was a wonder Joe had turned out alright at all.

Joe’s fork hit his plate, too loud even across the wave of conversation around the table. Ox looked at him, blanching a little at the furious anger there on his face.

“Don’t you dare,” Joe said, directly to Ox.

“I didn’t mean to,” Ox said.

All eyes were on him now. Elizabeth’s lips pressed together thin with worry, Carter and Kelly with their own mild fury. They all must have heard him, though some of them might not know exactly what Joe had gone through the Bennett’s had and he felt their anger like fire.

“I’m sorry,” Ox said, eyes on Joe. Only on Joe. Only ever on Joe.

Joe’s jaw was clenched, both angry and faraway from the look in his eye. This was what happened when he got careless with words, this was what happened when he got careless with his thoughts. Joe opened his mouth to say something else, probably something a little cruel and damning because even if they loved each other they could hurt each other too, but he must have been distracted by the sudden fear pouring from their dinner guest.

Ox could hear Caleb’s heart beat from across the dinner table, thumping hard and quick against his rib cage. And he smelled like- he looked like-

Joe deflated at once, the anger on his face sliding into something more neutral and less ready to do war. “Sorry Caleb,” Joe said.

Joe said, “It’s okay.”

Joe said, “You’re okay.”

Joe said, “You did nothing wrong.”

Elizabeth asked, “Caleb, would you like to go inside?”

Caleb nodded but didn’t move. Elizabeth stood up to escort him back inside but he stayed where he was, trembling like a leaf.

Joe watched him with confusion before realization dawned and he said, “Caleb you can leave the table.”

“ThankyouAlpha,” Caleb said, quick as a switch and rushed from the table back into the house. Elizabeth followed him to the door but stopped when he let it slam behind himself in her face. She hesitated for a moment before opening the door and following him inside.

 

Later that night Ox and Joe piled into the same bed, distance between them so much it felt like a chasm but at least Joe was _here_. At least Ox hadn’t fucked that up.

Ox thought, _don’t leave me_.

Joe made a soft sound and crushed his face into Ox’s neck and Ox bared it to him willingly. “You make me so mad sometimes,” Joe confessed, “Like my insides are boiling.”

“I know.”

“I love you.”

“I know,” Ox said thickly, letting his hand run through Joe’s hair, “I love you too.”

“I know I said what he reminds me of, but don’t compare the two. Don’t think about- just don’t.”

“Okay,” Ox said, “I’m sorry.”

“I forgive you,” Joe pressed a kiss to Ox’s neck, right against the bite he’d left as a mating mark, “It’s okay.”

“Do you think he’s going to be okay?”

“Caleb?”

“Yeah.”

“I hope so.” Joe hooked a leg over Ox’s hip, drawing them closer together. “I didn’t mean to scare him at dinner.”

“He’s been through a lot,” Ox said, pressing his lips to the top of Joe’s head, “He’s going to scare easily for a while. We’ll just have to be patient for as long as he wants to stay.”

“Good thing we’re the most patient people to ever exist in the history of forever,” Joe said.

Ox laughed and pulled him closer.

 

Caleb lay on the couch on his side. His leg and back already felt better now that the silver had been removed and Elizabeth had put a healing salve on it. He could probably run on it again in one day, maybe two, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to leave. This pack was- he felt-

They were warm and steady. He could feel them all around like little pin pricks of light, like stars bursting into super nova. He wondered how they could exist at all, wolves and humans and two Alphas. He wondered why he’d been allowed in, even if it was brief. Even if he wasn’t allowed to stay. _(He wanted to stay. He wanted he wanted he)_

Caleb pulled the blanket he’d been given up over his face. It was soft and smelled like bergamot and cedar, like mist and ice, like everything or everyone. He missed his pack then, suddenly. It was a wound that wouldn’t heal, no matter how much time he was given. A hurt he’d never shake. He missed them suddenly, profoundly, so sad and grieving that he pressed his face into the cushion of the couch and let himself fall apart.

_hurt im scared hurt im hurt im_

His pack hadn’t been warm like this, hadn’t burned him from the inside out quite like this pack did. But he was _theirs_ , and they were _his_.  And now they were gone and he was all alone and hurt and hunted. He didn’t ever want to hurt like this again, didn’t ever want anyone to get this close and be ripped away from him ever again.

But he also wanted to reach out, to cover himself in the scent around him and let himself be covered with it in return. He missed having a pack, a sense of belonging, of being. He wanted to hurt less, he wanted to go home, he wanted to sleep.

There was only one of those things he was allowed to have, so Caleb Conners pulled the blanket closer and slept.


	3. morning

_blood._

_there was so much blood._

_loud._

_his pack was screaming, howling, dying._

_dying._

_they were dying and he was –_

_god everything hurt. everything was loud and they were –_

_violet._

_their eyes were violet like rage like take like they were –_

_screaming._

_he was screaming and covered in blood. his packmates blood, his blood, and the hunters and they were and everything was –_

“Caleb.”

_they had him pinned in the corner. he was fighting but his packmates were dying, were dead, and he was alone all alone –_

“Caleb.”

_it hurt. they were buckling a collar around his neck. oh god it was silver it was silver it was they were –_

“Caleb!”

 

Caleb woke with a sharp gasp, dreams and nightmare and bad memories shattering like glass around him. There were hands touching him, pulling him upright, on his back, gripping and holding and “Don’t touch me.” Caleb snarled. His claws were digging into the blanket, shredding the soft material like paper. The hands fell away.

“Sorry.” Just a voice now, a man’s voice. A wolf, like him, like the ones he could feel in other rooms upstairs a down. Just a voice, not hands. “Sorry,” The man said again, “I was just…sorry.”

Caleb focused on his breathing, getting his heart back under control. His heart had always been a traitorous thing, impossible to calm and control his fear and panic.

“You were screaming,” The man said, crouching at his side, “It sounded like you were being attacked.”

“Nightmare,” Caleb said, “Just…fuck, just a nightmare.”

“Yeah I figured that out. The only victim here seems to be that poor blanket you’re tearing to shreds.”

Caleb withdrew his claws. “Sorry,” He mumbled, then, “Christ.”

“It’s okay.” He paused for a second, “I’m Kelly. Kelly Bennett.”

Of course he was a Bennett; same blonde hair and blue eyes as his brothers, same smile as his mother.

“Kelly,” Caleb acknowledged, “I’m Caleb.”

“Yeah I kind of figured that out already. You’re all anyone is talking about right now.”

Caleb wasn’t really sure how that made him feel. “Sorry,” He said. He thought he might be made of apologies, mostly for existing.

“For what?”

“Waking you up I guess.”

“It’s fine.” Kelly’s hand twitched upward, like his instinct was to touch Caleb just for reassurance, but then fell back to his side, “You going back to sleep?”

Caleb could still taste the blood in the back of his mouth, smell the smoke and burning flesh around him. “No,” He admitted.

“Alright,” Kelly said, standing up from his crouch, his knees popping faintly, “I’ll make some coffee. You can meet me in the kitchen when you’re ready.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Caleb said, “You can go back to sleep, I’m fine.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Kelly said, lips tugging up in a handsome grin. Then he said, “When you’re ready,” and disappeared into the kitchen.

Caleb untangled himself from the shreds of blanket around himself and followed.

 

Sunlight filtered in through the sheer curtains and cast a soft golden glow across the kitchen countertops. Music played faintly from the radio, something soft and classical and a little sad Elizabeth thought. Her lips tugged into a faint smile at the scene before her, Kelly with his head pillowed on his arms asleep at the counter and Caleb at his side, humming along to the radio and watching the morning sky shift from dark to light.

“Good morning,” Elizabeth said.

“Morning,” Caleb said without taking his eyes off the peach and cotton candy clouds.

Elizabeth made her way to the tea kettle, filling it with water and setting it on the stove to heat. “You two are up early,” she said, her hip resting easily against the counter and arms crossed over her chest. A stray hair from the bun she’d pulled it up into tickled her cheek and she brushed it away.

“I couldn’t sleep,” Caleb said, “Kelly stayed up with me for a while.”

“Ah.” Elizabeth watched him, took in the bags under his eyes and way he clasped his hands around a coffee cup like he was afraid it would disappear if he let go. She wished she could ease the tension in his shoulders, offer him something more than just condolences and a seat at their table. A comfortable silence fell between them. Caleb seemed content to watch out the window and Elizabeth was content to watch him and her son. Soon her tea kettle whistled and she didn’t miss the flinch Caleb had at the sudden noise. She made a soft soothing noise as she removed the kettle from the fire then went about fixing her tea. “I like to watch the sun rise from the porch. Would you like to sit with me?”

Caleb chewed on his lip and then shrugged. “Okay,” he said.

He followed her out to the front porch like a shadow, dark and silent. She grabbed a blanket from the living room and held the door for him. He didn’t make eye contact with her as he passed, still holding that coffee cup like a life line even though it was empty now. Elizabeth wanted suddenly, quite badly, to hold him. She shook away the thought as quickly as it came and took a seat on the steps, wrapping the blanket around her shoulders like a shawl.

“It’s so beautiful here,” Caleb blurted suddenly, too loud in the quiet peace of morning. He looked surprised by his own outburst.

“It is,” Elizabeth agreed.

Caleb gave a jerky nod and tucked his chin into his chest, shoulders drawn down and tight like he was trying to make himself smaller than he was. He was already so small and sickly it made him look like a child.

The morning air was brisk and a little colder than Elizabeth liked, but wolves ran warm so she didn’t mind too much. She drank her tea and watched the sun climb higher above the horizon, spilling honey light across the trees and houses. She could faintly feel the rest of her pack, her family, waking up and starting their day. She’d need to start cooking breakfast soon, but right now she was content to sit and listen to the birds sing and watch the clouds shift from pink to orange to white.

“Any special requests for breakfast?” Elizabeth asked once her tea was gone and had climbed up high over the trees.

Caleb opened his mouth and then closed it, then he shook his head.

“Okay,” Elizabeth said, standing, “You just come inside when you’re ready.” She removed the blanket from her shoulders and draped it over Caleb. She walked back inside the house and didn’t miss the way Caleb turned his head to bury his nose into the blanket’s soft warmth.

 

Kelly woke to the smell of frying bacon and pancakes, his stomach rumbling. He could hear his mother’s answering laugh and smiled, rubbing his eyes with his fist and yawning. His back ached faintly from sleeping slumped over the kitchen counter and he stretched, wincing at the pop and crack of his joints.

“Well good morning sleepy head,” Elizabeth said, reaching out a hand to slide through his hair.

Kelly hummed and leaned into his mother’s touch, “Good morning.”

“Want to tell me what you were doing sleeping on the kitchen counter instead of in your bed?”

“What? You mean to tell me you haven’t heard of counter sleeping?” Kelly asked in mock surprise, “All the kids are doing it nowadays.”

Elizabeth huffed out a laugh and flipped her pancakes.

“Caleb had a nightmare,” Kelly said, “He didn’t want to go back to sleep so I made coffee and stayed up with him for a little bit. I guess I fell asleep after a while.”

“That was sweet of you,” Elizabeth said.

Kelly shrugged, “It wasn’t a big deal.”

Elizabeth looked at him and said evenly, “It was to him.”

Carter eventually stumbled into the kitchen, still half asleep and rubbing at his eyes. He made grabby hands at the coffee maker and sighed when coffee did not immediately, magically, appear in his hands. More of the pack came in later, wandering in and out of the kitchen for coffee and stealing pieces of bacon and pancakes.

Elizabeth made a small plate with one pancake and one piece of bacon and asked Kelly to take it out to Caleb. “Try to encourage him to eat at least some of it,” She said before shooing him out of the kitchen.

Kelly was unsurprised to find Caleb back on the couch, now with a new blanket wrapped around his shoulders. He looked a little lost and dazed, hands still wrapped around the same coffee mug Kelly had given him earlier in the morning. “Hey,” Kelly said, sitting down on the floor in front of him.

“Hey,” Caleb echoed back.

“Mom made breakfast. It’s really good.”

“Okay.”

“Here.” Kelly held the plate up and Caleb looked at it for a few awkward seconds before setting his coffee mug on the ground and taking the plate. Caleb picked at the food, looking guilty and tearing off tiny bites at a time. Kelly just sat patiently, waiting for him to finish. “How’s your leg feeling? Joe said it looked pretty bad yesterday.”

Caleb shrugged, “It’s fine.”

“Is it?” Kelly asked, “Going to be ready to run with us at the full moon?”

Caleb dropped the bacon back onto his plate. “No one said anything about the full moon,” He said.

“Joe or Ox will probably ask you today,” Kelly said, “It’ll be fun. The humans run with us too.”

Caleb shook his head, “I don’t know.”

“Hey what happened to you anyway?”

Caleb frowned, “That’s not your business.”

Kelly shrugged, “Could be a good story anyway.”

“I am not a source of entertainment,” Caleb bit before shoving his plate in Kelly’s face, “I’m done with this, thank you.”

Kelly took the plate, only half eaten, and left Caleb alone in the living room.

 

Caleb drew the blanket tighter around his shoulders, ignoring the pack as they moved in and out of the house, getting started with their jobs and business for the day. He could feel the Alphas eyes on his when they came in but he wouldn’t look at them. Everything felt strange here. The way this pack moved was so different from his own. They had no fear for their Alphas, they let humans run with them at the full moon. It was- They reminded him-

No matter, he brushed the thought away almost violently. He felt like a side show freak sitting there with everyone’s eyes on him every time they passed through the room. He felt skittish and poised to run like a rabbit. He didn’t like it here, or he did but felt like a bruise. He wasn’t sure.

“Hey,” Joe said softly.

Caleb jerked his head up. Joe stood at the end of the couch, tall and big and scary but he had kind eyes and the smell of him was- “Hey,” Caleb parroted.

“Kelly said your leg was feeling a little better today,” Joe said.

 _Is all you do talk about me when I’m not in the room_ , Caleb thought.

Joe said, “There’s a full moon in a couple of days, I thought maybe you might join us if you wanted to.”

Caleb swallowed around something heavy in his throat. The thought of a full moon without his pack was impossible. He shrugged feebly.

“You don’t have to say yes right now,” Joe said, “Think about it?”

“Okay,” Caleb said, “But it might be better if I leave.”

“Why is that?”

Caleb screwed his hands up into the blanket Elizabeth had given him, soft fleece soothing over his bony knuckles. “There are people looking for me. I need to keep running or I might put your pack in danger and I don’t want- I can’t-“

“We can look after ourselves,” Joe said pointedly, “and those that we decide to take in.”

Something feeble and warm like hope bubbled up in Caleb’s chest. He squashed it before it could take root. “I know, but it’s safer if I leave.”

“We won’t force you to stay,” Joe said, “but I think we’d like it if you did. I think you’d like it too.”

 _I know_ , Caleb thought, _that’s why I can’t_.

Joe sighed in something like disappointment and Caleb flinched, ducking his gaze back down. He felt an apology on the tip of his tongue and swallowed it back down. Joe said, “Okay, but the offer is there.” He walked out of the room and upstairs, a door shutting somewhere in the house faintly.

Caleb’s shoulders slumped.

“Hey,” A voice said, closer than Joe had been. Caleb looked up. Another Bennett boy, older than Kelly. “I’m Carter Bennett.” He had a game controller in his hand. “Want to play X-Box?”

“What?” Caleb asked.

“X-Box,” Carter said, motioning to the range of game systems under their television, “I was going to play, thought you might like to join.”

“You don’t have to,” Caleb said, “I can go somewhere else.”

Carter shook his head, “You don’t have to leave. You don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to. You can play or watch or read a book or just sit in broody silence but the offer is still out there.”

“I’ll watch.” Caleb said.

Carter shrugged and dropped down onto the couch next to him, hitting a button on the controller to turn the console on and grabbing a remote from the end table to turn on the television. Caleb sat there in silence watching Carter’s fingers move over the buttons, listening to him curse faintly when he missed a jump or his character moved in a way he apparently didn’t want them to. The longer Caleb sat there the more he calmed, Carter’s scent warm and inviting like the scent of everyone in this pack.

It would be hard to leave them but the longer he stayed, the more hours that ticked by unnoticed, the more convinced Caleb became that he could not stay. He tucked that thought away for later and let himself enjoy the peace and safety for as long as he could have it.


End file.
